


All the Silence I've Become

by maddieaddam



Series: The first "I love you" drabbles [4]
Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Declarations Of Love, Emotionally Repressed, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-03 22:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10976499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddieaddam/pseuds/maddieaddam
Summary: When the one person who sees through your crap stops turning a blind eye, it's time to get real, or: Leckie is forced to choose between meaningless eloquence and Hoosier.





	All the Silence I've Become

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction inspired by and only intended to represent the roles played in the HBO miniseries The Pacific. No disrespect is meant to the real men of 1st Marine Division. 
> 
> The prompt for this "first I love you" drabble was: during an argument.

It never fails. Every time they argue - not just slinging around sardonic asides about one another but really going for blood, shouting every word at the tops of their voices - the whole thing wraps up with Hoosier saying that it’s a waste of time.

He bangs the gavel and throws the argument out of court and that’s it, because even if Leckie keeps trying to make his point after the verdict has come down, Hoosier responds by _not_ responding with such chilly eloquence that it leaves delicate frost patterns on all the windows. Being stonewalled with silence is so particularly galling for someone like Leckie, who trades in words and isn’t used to the experience of his skill falling short, that he can never keep his side up for long once Hoosier’s shut his down. His pride simply won’t allow it.

Hoosier’s choice of words is the most infuriating part, though. A waste of time? How is it a waste of time for them to try and work through these various bumps in the road instead of ignoring them? Leckie can’t quite bring himself to believe that Hoosier doesn’t care at all, because Hoosier just isn’t the type to stick around once all the life and light have gone out of a relationship; never, not once in all the time Leckie’s known him, has he shown himself to be the martyring type. That fact actually makes Hoosier a wonderful breath of fresh air in Leckie’s love life to date, one he never takes for granted.

Sometimes Leckie thinks that Hoosier must mean the arguments become a waste of time once they’re both too busy shouting and trying to inflict emotional damage to deal with the real issue, and - well, he has to admit that’s a fair point. But no conversation ever comes afterward, certainly not initiated by Hoosier and never taken up with any real effort if Leckie makes himself vulnerable enough to broach a serious topic that way, which makes him wonder if Hoosier is just that dedicated to burying his head in the sand and refusing to deal with _anything_ unpleasant.

Again, Leckie can’t quite fault or blame him if that’s the case. But isn’t this thing, this whatever they started and have yet to find any reason to finish, worth some unpleasantness? The thought that it isn’t for Hoosier always leaves Leckie with a bitter taste in his mouth, one which spreads and fills his throat until he’s choking on it too hard to speak whenever he considers asking outright.

But it can’t go on like this forever. “Forget it,” Hoosier says in a raw, hoarse wheeze, all that’s left of his voice after the latest argument, and Leckie thinks: _not this time._

“Hoosier, please, just tell me what I’m doing wrong here.” Leckie’s hands clench into fists at his sides, an automatic physical defense against emotional openness and vulnerability, but he forces them open again with slow, careful movements of his fingers. “Not in a general, all-encompassing sense, either - I mean in this exact type of moment, when you decide that there’s no more point in trying to communicate with me. Why do you do that?”

“Like you don’t fuckin’ know,” Hoosier mutters, and it’s probably the last thing Leckie expected him to say. His mouth actually falls open at the unfairness of that statement.

“I _don’t_ fucking know! I have no fucking idea, which is why I’m practically groveling for an answer right now!” Leckie hasn’t got much of a voice left himself, but that works in his favour this time, as the sting in his throat acts as a reminder to lower his voice before things can spiral further out of control. “I’m not sure if _you_ know, but I am trying.”

After a long silence on Hoosier’s part, in which he stands stock-still with his lips pressed into a fine line and his eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts, he finally answers. “That’s the thing, Leckie - you try so damn hard you don’t do shit.”

Again, Leckie opens his mouth only to close it, and this time it stays closed. He has no idea what that means. But his own silence seems to encourage Hoosier, who rushes to fill it with a more in-depth explanation.

“You talk and talk and talk and talk and the more words you use, the less you say. That’s why there’s no fuckin’ point, ‘cause you never _get_ to it.”

That’s cute. It’s genuinely clever, in fact. None of which makes the impact as it sinks right into the heart of Leckie’s favourite coping mechanism any less, because of all the things Hoosier could’ve said after the last thing Leckie expected, this has to be the worst.

“What do you want me to say?” Leckie asks, knowing the answer full well.

“Something real! _Anything_ real!”

Yes, that’s what he expected. Hoosier’s essentially told him that he’s aware of how Leckie - to use a simpler metaphor than the first that comes to mind, how Leckie will spend an entire argument polishing a nonexistent turd in the hopes that it will leave Hoosier blinded to real things like pain, or fear, or insecurity. What else would he ask for, given that?

When Leckie opens his mouth again, he has just as little idea of what will come out as Hoosier does -

“I love you, Hoos.”

The air between the goes so still and quiet that Leckie wonders if Hoosier is even breathing, because he’s certainly not. Sure enough, all the breath leaves Hoosier’s lungs in a sudden rush a second later, which leaves him looking so dizzy that Leckie closes the defensive distance between them to grab his shoulder.

“Okay,” Hoosier says - not _I love you too_ , but not _You fucking liar_ , either. Leckie thinks he can work with it for now.

“Okay,” he agrees with a slow smile, not sure why he’s agreeing or smiling until Hoosier smiles back at him and he decides that’s reason enough.


End file.
